Take Two (2 page)

He chuckled. “Relax. I was totally coming on to you.”

She raised a brow. “Really? Or are you just keeping me from being completely humiliated?”

“No, I really was hitting on you. Come on, it was incredibly obvious.”

“Yes, it was. Are you still hitting on me now? Or has the moment passed?”

“Oh, no, the moment hasn’t passed.” He cocked his head and his eyes travelled down her body again, lingering at her low neckline. “So…film school,” he said after a heat-filled moment. “What’s your area of interest?”

“Uh, uh, uh.” Maddie barely kept herself from a fit of nervous giggles. “You never told me why you were here.”

“That’s boring.”

“Impossible.”

“Okay, you really want to know? I was also dragged here. By some of the guys I work with.” He craned his neck, looking around the party. “I have no idea where they are. Nor would I tell you if I saw them because they might be more attractive than I am and I wouldn’t want to give myself unnecessary competition.”

Maddie let her own eyes explore his body. His casual white-and-black button-down shirt opened to mid-sternum and she could see serious pecs underneath. The bottom buttons also remained open and when he stretched his arms above his head—on purpose, no doubt—a patch of tight abs and a trail of hair peeked out. Yum, yum, and yum. “You don’t need to worry about competition.”

“Seriously? Then I’m doing okay?”

“You’re doing just fine.” She locked eyes with him, and thoughts of him naked above her flashed through her mind. Blushing, she looked away.

“So…” she said, raising her eyebrows. Was she really flirting like this with a stranger?

“So, you never told me what area of film you studied.”

As a rule, Maddie stayed away from this conversation with people she’d just met. Saying you graduated from film school in L.A. was like saying you had breakfast. It was a dull, overdone topic. But this subject was safer than her fantasy thoughts and the man’s assertiveness easily drew the answer out. “Screenwriting.”

He nodded.

“And directing.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Hmm, now that would be fun.”

“Directing?”

“Being directed by you.”

Her eyes widened. She quickly finished off her Corona, attempting to calm her nerves. How on earth did this stranger manage to fluster her like that? Turn her inside out so easily?

She played with the label of her empty bottle as she fought to stay on solid ground, steering away from his innuendo. “Yeah, so directing is my thing. But, of course, it’s difficult to break into that biz, so I’m interested in all things film at the moment. Sound, camera, you name it. Screenwriting just fell in the mix because when you’re a kid growing up wanting to direct, you had to have material to direct so you could practice. I’ve got three full-length films under my belt—indies—but still…and I start an internship with an amazing film crew on Monday.” She stopped, realizing she was babbling.

“I’m intrigued.” He took the bottle from her and set it on the grass next to his.

Without the bottle in her hands, she felt vulnerable. And was he sitting closer than he was a moment ago? She returned to her jabber, unable to organize her thoughts. “It’s really not that interesting. I’ll be a production assistant, the lowest of—”

“That’s not what I’m intrigued with,” he interrupted, his voice husky.

Maddie met his eyes and saw a flicker of desire. He wanted her—it was obvious. Why not? For one night, why not live carefree?

She tilted her head toward him and braved herself to tempt his seduction. “Then tell me, what is intriguing you?”

In one swift move, he had her pressed against the wall, his mouth hovering above her own. The rough stone behind her barely registered as she licked her lips in anticipation of the kiss she knew was coming.

But he didn’t lean in. Instead, he brought his finger to her cheek and caressed it softly. She shuddered at the electric pulses that followed his light touch as he traced her jawline. When he reached her chin, he lifted her face up to within an inch of his mouth. She felt his breath, hot and sweet, on her skin. And then his mouth was on hers, tugging at her bottom lip, teasing her until she eagerly drew him in, wrapping her arms around his neck.

The kiss built, each stroke varying in pressure and intensity. Soft nips evolved into frenzied exploration, their tongues dancing, plunging deeply and hungrily. She savored his taste. A rush of pleasure rippled through her and she trembled under his attentive suckling.

His mouth released hers, traveled along her jaw and down her throat, his trail of kisses searing into her skin. She clung to a fistful of his thick hair while he alternately nibbled and nuzzled her neck, stoking the fire in her core. When he raised his head to reclaim her lips, she glimpsed a greedy longing in his eyes.

He pressed tighter against her and Maddie could feel the bulge of his erection against her hip. She drew in a sharp breath, and he grinned against her mouth before recapturing it in his.

Desperate to feel more of his body against her own, for him to touch her more intimately, she arched her back, pushing her chest deeper into him. He read her cue and brought his hand down over her shirt to cup her breast. He stroked his thumb firmly over her nipple until it stood under the contact.

“Damn,” he said, his tone pleased.

For once, Maddie was grateful that her chest, though on the smaller side, was firm enough to wear built-in shelf tank tops without bras.

He continued his assault on her other breast. Maddie moaned, her hips rocking up, instinctively looking for something more, something her rational brain would have told her was inappropriate to seek from a man she’d just met. Hell, she didn’t even know his name. But her rational thought was lost within the flood of passion brought on by his equally fervent ardor.

She raised her hips again, and this time he responded by moving his hand to the inside of her upper leg. Softly, he caressed her thigh, journeying up, up until he reached her panties. She gasped as his fingers moved underneath the elastic and found her taut bud.
Holy fuck!
She relaxed her legs to give him better access, letting him know she wanted more.

And, man, did he deliver. With the pad of his finger, he stroked and swirled her tender flesh. Expertly, he increased the pressure to her swollen bundle of nerves until she was lost in glorious sensation. His mouth recaptured hers, swallowing her cry of pleasure as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed through her, and she shuddered uncontrollably.

His kissing slowed, and when she had calmed enough to resume a modicum of control, he pulled his lips away and rested his forehead against hers. “Would you join me somewhere even more private?” he asked, his engorged shaft still pressing hot against her hip.

Yes, yes, a million times yes!
Even in the afterglow of her release, she desired him, longed to bring him to his own climax. Still panting, she opened her mouth to answer when a not-too-far-off voice interrupted her.

“Maddie! Maddie? Is that you?”

Bree.

Maddie turned from the handsome stranger and saw her near-naked friend peering at her from a few feet away.

“It is you!” Bree squealed. “I’m so, so, so, so happy I found you. I really think you need to take me—”

Bree’s sentence was cut off as she vomited all over the lawn.

The man shook his head. “I see you’re needed…Maddie, is it?”

“I…I’m…” She felt torn between responsibility and recklessness. She wanted to leave Bree to figure out her own mess rather than give up this magnificent creature in her arms. Maybe it would teach her a lesson. But Bree was in no condition to handle herself. Maddie sighed with frustration.

“I totally understand.” He released her from his embrace. “I won’t say I’m not disappointed—very disappointed—but I understand.”

“I’m sorry. Truly sorry.” She stood, reluctantly, and glowered at Bree, now on her hands and knees sobbing. Maddie readjusted her skirt and took a step toward the pathetic creature.

“Wait.” He grabbed her hand. “Can I see you sometime?”

Maddie tilted her head to stare back at him. “Really? You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t. I want to.”

She broke into a grin. “Give me your phone.” He did and she typed her information into his contacts, then handed it back.

“Thanks.” He nodded toward Bree. “Let me help you with her.”

“No,” Maddie said quickly. His questioning look prompted her to explain. “It’s just, I’d rather remember you right there, not fumbling around with my idiot drunk friend.” Plus she couldn’t subject him to dealing with Bree, especially with the hard-on she knew he still sported.

“Got it.” He adjusted himself. “Just as long as you are remembering me.”

“Oh, I could never forget.” She sighed to accent her point. He winked and she turned again to leave when a thought crossed her mind. She spun back to him. “Hey, I don’t know—”

“Micah,” he said, accurately predicting what she was going to say. “I’m Micah.”

“Nice to meet you, Micah.” She rolled the name off her lips, relishing its feel in her mouth. Then she gave him one last longing look before she left to help Bree.

Chapter Two

Micah Preston couldn’t decide if he was irritated or glad to be left waiting in Stu Steeling’s front office for so long. On the one hand, he’d already been sitting there for more than half an hour. If this was any indication of the sort of attention he’d receive if Stu signed him as a client, he should bail now. Except Stu Steeling was the best publicity and image manager in Hollywood. Getting an appointment with him was nearly impossible, let alone getting a contract. And Stu had called Micah’s agent for this meeting, which was why Micah didn’t just up and walk out.

On the other hand, the wait gave him a chance to compose and focus before his interview.

Who was he kidding? He couldn’t focus—not one bit. His mind kept returning to the night before and the leggy brunette who had gasped and moaned so beautifully at his touch. Maddie. He could still taste her on his tongue.

He hadn’t wanted to attend the wrap party for his indie film. Not that he was averse to a good time, but his meeting with Stu was bright and early, and his agent had recommended that Micah keep sober and well-rested.

“You’ll never get a chance like this with Steeling again,” Priscilla, his agent, had said. “If he signs you, you will go from unknown indie films to big studio features. I swear it. He can make or break your acting career.”

So Micah had done a quick walk around the wrap party, making sure he said goodbye to the people he wasn’t sure he’d see again. Then, not wanting to be totally uncool and leave before midnight, he grabbed a beer and found a quiet spot to relax.

That was when he’d spotted her, making her way through the crowd with such purpose and direction it seemed as if she were coming to join him. She’d stopped to survey the spectacle at the pool and he’d had a perfect view of her long legs and firm behind. An image of her bent naked in front of him had flashed through his mind and his cock was twitching before she even turned around. When he did see her face—her perfectly plump lips, her deep chocolate eyes—he knew he had to touch her, taste her, feel her against him. And that he did.

He closed his lids as he remembered.

It was a good thing their encounter was interrupted. He hadn’t enjoyed going home blue-balled, but he’d been minutes away from taking her fast and hard in an empty bathroom of his producer’s house, and she deserved something more than a hot round of wham bam thank you ma’am. Micah wanted to give her that something more and he planned to take her out on a real date and end up in a bedroom, nice and proper.

Not for the first time that morning, he pulled out his phone and stared at her contact information, trying to decide if he’d seem too eager if he sent her a text. Ah hell, he didn’t care if he sounded eager—he was eager—to know her, to touch her again.

He began composing a text when the receptionist called his name.

“Mr. Steeling will see you now.”

Micah saved the draft and pocketed his phone. He’d have to save his fantasies for later—now it was time to focus on the biggest moment of his career.

A few minutes later, Micah found himself seated across from Stu Steeling, who perched behind an immaculate mahogany desk.

“I’m going to get right to the point,” Stu said after they greeted each other. “I’m not much for small talk—it’s a waste of time, and in this business, time is money. I’ve seen your work. You’re talented, there’s no question about that. And you’re good-looking. Priscilla tells me you’ve been working with her for”—he paused to study a small notepad he’d pulled from his pocket—“seven years. Most people would say you should have hit it big by now if you were ever going to, but I’m not most people. How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

Stu’s forehead creased. “Twenty-four is older than I like to start with clients, but it’s not a deal breaker. It just means that if you agree to work with me, you’ll have to really commit to the guidelines I set out for you, and I mean commit—one hundred percent, no fucking around. Building an image in Hollywood is not impossible, but it takes dedication and hard work. It’s grueling and not recommended for the faint of heart. What do you say?”